


Five Days

by Reiki



Category: One Piece
Genre: "I swear it was a bird. A giant blue bird.", Ace is Oblivious...Right?, Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit, Crossing the line, Devil Fruit speculation, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Zoan type
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiki/pseuds/Reiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ace discovers a mythical creature flying above the Moby Dick one night and confides in Marco his awe of it. Marco, going through his 'phoenix rebirth,' feels himself drawn to Ace's personal fire and wonders just how close he can go in five days before crossing the boundary between friends and lovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One

Out of the very few things that made Marco sweat, dreaming was one of them. Not scary nightmares, but rather richly envisioned erotic fantasies. Those particular dreams always left him in a cold sweat with his heart beating so loudly he feared everyone on the Moby Dick could hear it.

He didn’t have them often, though tonight he found himself awakening in a dark room soaking wet. And he certainly didn’t need to reach a hand down between his thighs to confirm his erection. With his sharp eyes he could see the tent it made by pushing up his bed sheets. When he dreamt it was always the same outcome and, above all, Marco _hated_ it.

He hated how his mind could visualize things to the smallest detail. He hated how his body became aroused without his bidding. But, most of all, he hated that the reason he started having these dreams was because of a certain new addition to his crew, his _family_.

Marco rolled over with difficulty in his small bunk. Even though commanders had their own quarters it certainly didn’t constitute luxury. It only meant an added sense of privacy, something Marco was incredibly thankful for given his current state of excitement. If he were sleeping in the barracks with the rest of his division of pirates, Marco wouldn’t be able to order them around without a few jokes thrown in his general direction, slandering his reputation.

He shivered at the thought of being the butt end of his crew members’ jokes. It would be humiliating. Another wave of disgust coursed through him. He was their captain’s right hand, how could he be dreaming about one of his captain’s newest _sons_?

This brought him full circle to thinking about his dream, or what he could remember of it. Marco groaned at the absurdity of it all and buried his face in the soft down pillow he’d ‘borrowed’ from an inn the crew had spent a night at during their last trip on land. He liked this pillow a lot and feared that all of his sweating would eventually degrade the quality of the feathers inside the pillow.

Besides, it was nearly time anyway. He would have to get up as soon as the night sky reached its darkest hour anyway.

With that in mind, Marco shimmied out of bed and onto the cold wooden flooring. The room was cramped and he had no trouble locating a pile of clothes with the help of a few small blue flames jutting out of the tips of his fingers, illuminating the room in a wash of bluish yellow light.

By the time he pulled on a pair of pants and a jacket his arousal was deflating. This was a relief as he didn’t intend to stay put in his room, not with thoughts of what his dream had been about still plaguing his mind.

Moving sluggishly down corridors and past rooms that held sleeping occupants Marco climbed up to the main deck. The moon was out tonight, shining brightly with her children, the stars, in a cloudless sky. He snuffed out his fire, the need becoming obsolete. Besides, it was getting close to being that time of the year again and he needed to conserve his strength.

 _Guess it’s time to find that island_ , thought Marco as he lifted his arms towards the mizzenmast in a feeble stretch. His arms fell limply to his sides, completely undermining his usual strength. _I feel like a newborn baby bird. So weak._

 _And sweaty_ , Marco thought with a grimace. He felt clammy and, with no further thoughts permitted as to why this had occurred to him, he began to climb the rigging of the ship. At his current lethargic pace it took him several minutes to reach the top of the mizzenmast, right below where one of Whitebeard’s flags dolefully flapped in the breeze. He wasn’t at the highest point on the ship by far, but he knew that there wasn’t a watch posted in the mizzenmast’s crow’s nest. There would be a man above the topgallant and another on the foremast. More than likely one or both of them would be asleep. Aside from that they probably wouldn’t notice him until he’d long left the Moby Dick.

He sat in the crow’s nest – which was really just a platform with a safety rail to keep occupants safe – listening to the waves hitting the hull of the ship. The gust of wind blew harder, insistently, and Marco forced his human form up on top of the railing, teetering slightly as he was still in a rather lethargic state. He didn’t trust his legs to keep him steady and moved into a crouch, feeling the oddly familiar feeling he always got when perching on the Moby Dick looking out at the never ending sea and sky.

It was that sensation of freedom, of flight.

He let his body burst into a multitude of blue flames, stretching out his arms to embrace the semi-darkness around him. With a smile befitting his sudden burst of elation he dove straight down, belly first, passing the rigging in a blur as he plummeted towards the deck. Before he got there he angled his arms, which had become his wings, and shot out towards the vastness of the ocean. In this form he was infinitely light and airy, a true creature of the sky.

He beat his wings to gather a few knots of speed as the wind ferried him along. He could feel it down to his very feathers; the heavy numbness that told him he was slowly but surely dying and in need of rebirth. It always happened near the spring equinox and he’d been preparing for it. He alone was the only reason his captain had berthed the ship so near a deserted island without stating a purpose to his crew.

Only Whitebeard knew of his special condition, naturally. It was his only true weakness that was different from the usual Devil Fruit complications and Marco was not keen on being exploited by his family members who would no doubt give him a good teasing if they found out.

After Marco had eaten his Devil Fruit many years ago, it had taken him nearly a year of blundering about to discover that his phoenix form, though able to regenerate any wound, only worked as long as he recharged his life force yearly. He had figured out how to salvage his drowsiness that had increased a bit every day; reading about the legends of his creature from which he earned his name and experiencing personally how, at certain points during that first year, he felt an unexplainable attraction to fire.

After he learned to deal with that problem he had become an unstoppable force. As long as he followed a strict schedule.

The flight over the dark waters in the night sky was a short one. Despite the tiny bit of light the stars offered him he could see his target; a nameless isle that lacked a magnetic field. He flew low over the trees, looking for the clearing that he knew existed on this particular nameless isle. At last he found it amid a grove of fir trees and he alighted on a rocky outcropping, talons slipping over loose pebbles.

He had a few hours to himself before the sun rose and, with it, the pirates aboard the Moby Dick. He wished to make good use of those hours.

Marco set off gathering trees and sticks, dragging them up onto the rock to arrange them into a neat pile. This process of gathering and arranging, that others might’ve found cumbersome, was oddly calming for Marco who enjoyed the simple repetition. He didn’t know if it was nest making instincts that came from his Devil Fruit ability or rather the gathering instincts of early humans but he knew it felt natural to him.

The creation of a sizable nest took the better part of an hour. By the time he’d arranged everything just the way he liked it the sky was beginning to lighten. He hurried himself along at that point, pulling matches from his pockets and lighting the sticks and brush he’d accumulated. The wood was dry and the fire caught easily, spiralling into a hearty blaze in no time.

Immediately, Marco felt a sense of peace watching those flames shoot up and crackle powerfully. He let himself go and became a blue bird of legend. The fire, previously pulling upwards into the sky began to lean towards him, beckoning and grabbing at his feathers eagerly. Marco had always found the fire’s greedy pull amusing and danced around his nest to tease it. Soon though, something inside of his body, an awakened instinct that he repressed throughout the year became restless and tired of being dormant. He leapt into the flames, grasping with his talons the tattered and charred remnants of the forest.

The flames roved his body, engulfing him in warmth. Marco didn’t burn in the fire’s embrace. He wasn’t like any other creature. Really, he was fire itself and the fire accepted him as its own kin. It planted soft kisses on his feathers and gently crackled against his talons, massaging his tired being. That was the physical nourishment the fire provided the phoenix’s being.

As for emotional, Marco knew from many past experiences that he would be in a better state of mind when he left the island today. He would feel giddy for the rest of the day, brought on by the pleasure the fire provided for him. The happiness he gleaned from this yearly exercise would relieve any and all stress that had built up during the year. The fire would slip the worries from his shoulders. He would be light as a feather.

But it would take five nights of bathing in the flames to achieve the full effect.

Marco snuffed out the bonfire by covering it with his wings, patting it down into the earth with the promise that he would return again tonight. Only when he was sure the embers weren’t going to relight did Marco take to the sky once more, flying low over the ocean swells and back to the Moby Dick.

\--oOo--

Later on that same day when the sun rose completely overhead, someone followed Marco all the way from the mess hall to the Moby Dick’s figurehead. Marco didn’t need to turn around to know who was behind him, for he felt this particular person’s subconscious pull on him, so unique from all his other crewmates. It was the same pull that the fire he built yearly had, a pull that made Marco want to relinquish all restraint and give in to desire.

He couldn’t do that. Not now, not ever. Besides, Ace was just beginning to trust everyone. He had just ceased his attempts at his Pops’ life. Marco wouldn’t risk the precarious balance that had come about for his own wants. As the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard pirates, he wasn’t allowed to be selfish.

“Hey, Marco,” Ace greeted him softly, sitting beside the man on the expansive whale head that served as the ship’s bow. He sat a reasonable distance from Marco, though not too far as to appear suspicious or guarded in any way. “Can I ask you something?”

There was an undercurrent of nervousness in his tone that Marco picked up on immediately.

“You can ask me anything,” Marco replied with a smile on his face, sticking his tongue out a bit in hopes that it would make Ace feel more at ease. He liked that it was he who Ace always sought out for answers. It made him feel like a mentor to this younger man and he enjoyed the time Ace gave him out of his day.

Ace licked his lips, almost anxiously. “Last night…”

Marco perked up, moving his body around to face Ace completely, re-crossing his legs under him. His attentive eyes urged Ace to continue.

“Well, I was on watch last night and I saw something…well, I don’t really know if I should have alerted everyone or not. It didn’t seem threatening.”

Marco quirked an eyebrow and Ace rubbed at his freckled cheeks, suddenly feeling sheepish. “I mean, it was this…I think it was a bird. A giant blue bird. And you might think this is crazy but I _swear_ it was on fire!”

Fighting to keep a laugh and a huge grin from erupting out of him, Marco merely inclined his head in acknowledgement. He managed to keep himself in check now that he wasn’t looking at Ace’s incredulous face, though it was hard not to mental snicker to himself. “I believe what you saw,” he said slowly after he’d gotten himself under control.

Ace had only been a part of the Whitebeard pirates for a few moons. He was just beginning to prove himself as an adept member of the crew. He didn’t know all of ship’s secrets or its occupants’ full powers. He didn’t know he’d seen Marco’s most illusory form last night.

“You believe me?” Ace asked sceptically. Marco returned a very firm nod and a slight encouraging smirk that brought out a hesitant grin on Ace’s face. “I wasn’t sure if anyone would believe me. I mean, this bird was like something out of a dream. It was _beautiful_. I would give anything to reach out and touch it. Hell, I would give anything just to catch a _glimpse_ of it again.”

Marco turned away to stare out at the ocean, swallowing thickly as he repeated Ace’s enthused words in his mind. Apart from Whitebeard, nobody had ever been so receptive of his Devil Fruit ability. Nobody had really cared what he was and, if they did, they thought he was a freakish creature straight from the fires of hell; burning demonic being. This unknowing appreciation Ace had for his bird form was a nice change of pace.

“You should have seen it though, Marco; this bird had the coolest way of flying. I can’t even describe it to you, but it was like it floated on top of the air. The New World sure has some incredible creatures in it.”

Marco knew he’d be preening his feathers to Ace’s words later and tried not to bask in the glow of Ace’s gusto right at that moment, for it would raise questions from the boy beside him.

“I volunteered to have the two o’clock to five o’clock watch again. You should come on watch with me tonight. Since we’re docked it could show up again and I think you’d like to see it too.”

As much as Marco wanted to spend time with Ace up in the crow’s nest he also had his own obligations for the next four days. Oddly enough they just so happened to coincide with Ace’s own plans. After some pondering of the pros and cons of putting himself in such a situation Marco said, “I like to get a good night sleep while I can.”

It wasn’t a lie but it also wasn’t the truth that Ace would find so fascinating to hear. Ace merely chuckled and tried to convince him several times more to go bird watching with him. Marco politely declined every time, citing his weariness couldn’t be ignored so casually since he was one of the head figures in Whitebeard’s crew. He needed to be well-rested in case they came under attack.

At last Ace gave up, sprawling out on the deck and changing the conversation topic to something more suitable to pirates. Like whose ship they might plunder and pulverize next.

 

 


	2. Day Two

Marco left earlier than he usually would for the island, arriving in his clearing some time past midnight. He built up his nest using large trees that grew in abundance on the isle and spent a surplus of time bathing in the fire, contemplating his next actions.

He knew Ace would be on the lookout for him and he knew, thanks to Ace’s own words, the exact time frame Ace’s eyes would be roving the crests of the waves and the invisible night clouds searching for him. He could stay out on the island until Ace’s shift ended and then return without exposing himself to the boy. He kind of liked that Ace hadn’t yet discovered his true identity. The deceit made things fun for him, plus he would admit he enjoyed being the subject of Ace’s high praise.

Admiring words from Ace warmed him, much like the heat from the fire he was sitting in did.

As he thought more about those words Ace had uttered yesterday he felt an idea begin to take shape in his mind. Granted, it was not a full fledged plan, but more like a curious little experiment just to see what might happen.

The idea flourished and before Marco knew what he was doing he’d snuffed out his fire an hour earlier than he’d thought he would, transforming back into a human. He grabbed the sides of his jacket that hung open and zipped himself up. With the cloth covering his tattoo he knew that the mark of the Whitebeard pirates wouldn’t appear on his chest while in his other form.

Cool blue flames licked the ground around him and before Marco could place doubt in himself he took off, sailing up, up, up through the trees and away from the island. He spun and barrelled along higher in the sky, reaching a height where low lying stratus clouds formed. The moisture coated him in a thin sheen of liquid, adding extra shine to his already bright appearance. He couldn’t hear the waves below him with the whoosh of air in his ears but he could see the whitecaps dotting the ocean. He saw with his keen eyes, in the darkness of the night, how the waves heaved up against the Moby Dick, sprinkling the side of the great ship with sea spray.

He moved his gaze farther along, up the rigging and past the furled sails to the crow’s nests. He had a good idea which one Ace resided in and, after coming closer in range, he saw a flicker of red to confirm his suspicions. From the distance between Marco and the flame that had emerged on the top of one of the masts, it reminded the former of a single candle on a birthday cake, sputtering under someone’s breath. The wind was picking up and it pushed Marco to fly over the top of the ship, his tail lurching wildly in a sudden bout of turbulence.

Marco could feel Ace’s eyes watching him. In fact, he could see the excitement emanating from the boy just by clueing in to body language alone. Marco careened and curled around, shooting back over the Moby Dick. This time he allowed himself to get a bit closer. His eager eyes showed him that Ace was beaming and running about the crow’s nest from one side to another, trying to keep up with Marco’s quick movements and get the best view of his elusive blue creature.

Marco circled for several minutes, watching bemused as Ace was beside himself with exhilaration. Daringly he dipped lower, losing altitude to glide over the top of the mast, brushing his long ringed tail over the flag that rippled lightly in the wind. It was, in its own way, a fond show of his pride to be a Whitebeard pirate. Ace, however, wouldn’t catch the hidden meaning, not without first knowing that it was Marco who flew so gaily above him.

As Marco rose once more to a safer elevation he noticed Ace’s hands glowing a bright vivid red. These hands were raised above his head, crackling with a hot, inviting fire. Any bit of flame during the five days his yearly cycle was composed of earned his curiosity. Marco found himself pulled to this fire in much the same way he was to any fire that burned bright and alluring.

 _‘Come here,’_ the fire beckoned. _‘Let me touch you.’_

He spooked; Ace’s fire was innocently drawing him in. He allowed himself one last swoop over the topgallant mast, felt the tempting heat of the flames below him, then spiralled and headed back towards the island. It took a lot of willpower to ignore the feeling in his gut that was pulling him backwards.

During those five days of renewal, Marco knew his phoenix instincts were much harder to repress. He had to remind himself to keep a level head in all situations.

With this in mind he flew hurriedly back to the island, touching down on the first tree branch he could spot that looked sturdy enough to support his weight. Perched there in a tree, hidden by numerous other trees and their leaves, Marco released his hold on his phoenix form and breathed deeply. He was panting, not from the quickness of the flight but from giving Ace what he wanted to see.

The euphoric feeling he was experiencing now, he knew, had only half to do with the fire he’d lit on the island earlier. That fire had made him feel energized, sure, but it hadn’t lifted his spirits as much as seeing Ace’s shining face, radiating delight. Ever since Ace first joined the Whitebeard pirates he’d been able to put Marco in a good mood with his often playful antics so it really didn’t surprise him that Ace was able to raise his spirits up now. What was surprising for Marco was the extent at which Ace had managed to influence his mood. He didn’t think Ace would affect him as much as he just did.

As he waited for the sun to rise and told the time by looking at the tell-tale signs in the sky, he thought to himself that deceiving Ace seemed to have more direct advantages to him than he’d first thought. He’d keep up with this charade a bit longer, see where it went. It felt good to share the night with someone for once, since every year before he had been lonesome. If anything it had been entertaining to amuse Ace by flying by overhead.

He crouched low on the branch, hugging his knees to his chest and smiling, recalling how Ace had unintentionally called out to him. That had excited his inner phoenix greatly. He had almost given in and landed in the crow’s nest. He knew that if he had he probably would have snuggled up to Ace’s fiery hands and created a bigger problem for himself.

When Ace found out who his mysterious visitor in the night was, he’d be in trouble if he got too close and personal. So it was best to keep his distance, no matter how much Marco wanted to revoke his decision. After all, there were set boundaries between nakama, ones that shouldn’t ever be crossed. It was his duty, as Whitebeard’s right hand, to set an example for the rest of his crew mates.

It soon became time to head back; Ace would be off-duty. With morning light streaking the sky Marco took off again towards the Moby Dick with the first rays of sunshine glittering off his wings.

\--oOo--

Marco had anticipated that Ace would find him again later in the day to tell him of last night. He had eaten lunch without a glimpse of a shaggy mop of raven hair (sources told him Ace was helping someone out) and then went for a walk above deck. He had ended up back on the whale figure head, gazing out at the waves and looking at the speck of his island in the distance. It was a mere green bump that jutted out of the otherwise flat horizon and he was lost in thought thinking about the memories that island was helping to create.

He was so transfixed that he almost didn’t detect Ace clamouring up the figure head towards him. “Hey, Marco,” Ace called cheerfully. Already Marco could hear the burst of excitement in Ace’s tone. He licked his lips in anticipation before turning around and greeting Ace.

“What’s got you so happy?” Marco asked wittingly. He took in Ace’s muscular chest, letting his eyes wander around that expanse of dips and curves. It didn’t hurt to look every so often; no harm would come of a few stolen glances. In his opinion it didn’t violate any unspoken rules between crewmates. Besides, was it not good to know what his friends looked like?

A wide grin spread across Ace’s freckled face, crinkling the sides of his mouth. Marco couldn’t help but notice that some strands of Ace’s wavy hair framed his face particularly well today.

“Don’t tell anyone, but I saw _it_ again.”

“Your mysterious bird?” Marco questioned coyly, finding that he was quite enjoying this game. He wouldn’t call it a game of cat and mouse, but it was certainly a game that required him to keep his wits about himself and not divulge too much information.

“Yeah!” Ace plopped down beside him, closer than yesterday. His baggy black shorts hugged his waist tightly thanks to his belt and dimly Marco caught himself staring that the folds of fabric where they bunched the most. If Marco so much as extended an arm out he would be able to place a hand over that tempting bulge. “I told you that you should’ve come on watch with me last night.”

Marco tore his eyes away from Ace’s crotch and tried to chuckle off his embarrassment at so easily falling prey to Ace’s bodily charms. His chuckling was weak and forced, though Ace didn’t seem to perceive it as such. The other was too busy chatting away.

“You should have seen it Marco! It flew right above my head! I think it might be friendly, at least towards sailors, kind of like how dolphins are. It’s pretty big for a bird, so who knows what it eats? Maybe it eats fish. The first time I saw it, the bird was flying really low near the water. It could’ve been looking for fish. But it’s a _huge_ bird Marco; I think it would have to eat dolphins or something to be satisfied. You know what, it could even–”

Vaguely Marco listened to Ace ramble on, chuckling lightly at some of his theories and outright laughing at the faces of amazement Ace was making as he recalled specific events that had happened the night before, ones that were already burned vividly into Marco’s mind. Besides his thoughts on the bird’s diet, Ace also provided details about how the bird flew, what colours he could see mixed in with the original blue he’d thought the bird was comprised of, and how Marco had missed out on a really cool incident.

At length, Ace stopped his speech, taking Marco’s silence as a sign that he either didn’t care or couldn’t get a word in edgewise with his constant stream of blabbering. “Ah, I’m sorry; sometimes I lose all of my thoughts out of my mouth in one shot.”

“It’s fine, Ace. I don’t mind listening to you,” Marco said, calm eyes sparkling. That much was true; having Ace speaking volumes to him required that he give his full attention to the other. That entailed a lot of uninhibited staring on his part. “You’re amusing when you get enthusiastic about something.”

Ace laughed, a deep melodic sound that sent a tingle down Marco’s chest, lodging somewhere in his nether regions. Quickly Marco dropped his hands into his lap, obscuring himself. It hadn’t been the first time he’d been easily excitable during his cycle. He knew from past experiences that it didn’t take much to rile up his inner animal.

“I’m going to do the watch again tonight.”

“Isn’t that a bit excessive? Aren’t you tired?” asked Marco with a small smile. He watched Ace’s face, taking note of the dark circles that were beginning to form under his eyes. Most pirates who’d had a night watch would sleep the better part of the next day, yet Ace was here above deck with him. Marco could only assume that not a wink of sleep was had in the past twenty-four hours. It might not have affected a lot of his crewmates, but Marco knew that Ace needed more sleep than the average person.

Ace yawned, confirming Marco’s suspicions. “I’m always tired. But I figure I get plenty of sleep during the day anyway with my sleep attacks.”

Marco chuckled as he pictured Ace’s face landing in his food, splattering bits and pieces of the contents of his plate everywhere. They’d all seen him do it in varying degrees of magnificence.

“You’ll join me tonight, won’t you?” In a second, Ace had turned his lips down into a sort of pout, though Marco knew it was a subconscious movement. If Ace knew he looked like he was begging for something, he would immediately work to reform any childish behaviour. Anything that could be considered cute Ace didn’t think was _manly_. So Marco kept the pouty comment to himself.

“Won’t you?” Ace asked again.

Marco had opened his mouth to say yes, that he would be there but shut it again when he realized that he would be there under the guise of the phoenix. “I haven’t been getting much sleep lately,” he replied instead.

Ace scrutinized him, dark eyes seemingly boring their way into his soul. He took in Marco’s heavily lidded eyes and said, “Well, you do look sleepy. But still, I have a feeling the bird might be back again and I don’t think you’ll want to miss it! Besides, it’d be fun having you up there with me.”

As much as this pulled on Marco’s heart strings he forced himself to shake his head. Ace pulled a face of disappointment and Marco could see a hint of a pout on his rosy lips. Again Marco shook his head, this time more to clear his thoughts of anything too inappropriate rather than to decline Ace’s offer.

“I just feel like I should be sharing this with someone. And I haven’t told anyone else yet.”

Marco felt flattered that Ace had confided in him as opposed to the remnants of his original crew, the Spade pirates. He knew that Ace was close to his old crew and it was an honour that Ace would go to him in lieu of one of them.

“I think you should just keep this bird to yourself. Everyone has something special that occupies a specific place in their heart. Something they can mull over in the privacy of their own thoughts.” Worded gently, this didn’t sound like Marco was trying to hide his Devil Fruit abilities. It just sounded like he was persuading Ace to keep something special close to his heart and out of the reach and contamination of others.

Ace nodded slowly, agreeing with Marco’s words. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. They might think I’m crazy anyways, especially if the bird never returns.” He let out an abrupt laugh, running his fingers through his dark hair.

Marco chuckled lightly. _No,_ he thought, _they’d tell you I’m the one behind all of this. They’d crush any mystery that makes this so fun for you and I._

Faintly he could hear someone calling for Ace. The boy stood with a grin on his face and bounded off. He shouted a hasty goodbye over his shoulder, a promise that they’d meet up later.

Marco fell onto his back, stretching out on the whale to absorb the sun’s rays that would tide him over until night came. Unbeknownst to Ace, Marco did plan on seeing him again shortly, when the sun dipped down past the horizon and the stars became visible in the sky.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment!


	3. Day Three

By the third time Marco stumbled out of his self-made fire he could feel his skin glowing and knew that his feathers would be brighter and more vibrant than the last day. The renewal process was enough to last him for another year, but the first few days always felt the best. If he wanted, he supposed he could do this all the time. However, he ran the risk of being found out by people other than Whitebeard.

He could hear the playful jokes in his mind. They would laugh about how he built a nest, probably crack jokes about how he must be laying eggs in them. No, he could wait a few months for rebirth. Besides, after his five days was up Whitebeard would move their ship and they’d go back to travelling once more. Who knew when they’d see another deserted island fit for his fire baths? Many islands in the New World were pretty uninhabitable.

Marco walked over to his pile of clothes that he’d brought. On the later half of his cycle he would generally forsake clothes, as his skin and thus his feathers became less sensitive to the touch of the flame when they were covered in human fabrics. By having them off the fire became more intimate and he knew, from past experiences, that he would leave with a greater sense of refreshment than if he’d kept his clothes on.

Pulling a shirt over his head Marco fingered the cloth, unused to having something so restraining on his torso. Usually he wore an open jacket, but tonight he’d abandoned it in favour of the shirt. There was a gnawing worry with the jacket that the zipper would break suddenly. If that were to happen he’d expose his mark to Ace while flying above him in phoenix form. It would be disastrous to his carefully laid plans to keep his identity a secret for a while longer. He wanted nothing more than for his plans to run smoothly. It would be most rewarding if they did.

He knew his thoughts were absurd but he couldn’t help himself as he ran through countless possibilities in his head for how tonight might go. Flexing his fingers and seeing them shine a dull blue, Marco realized he was greedy for fire. This was always the way it went as he progressed through his cycle. Until the fifth night was over Marco’s lust for flames would grow.

He didn’t want anyone to know about this weakness. He didn’t want anyone to know he was attracted to a flame like a moth was to a single light shining in the night. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder, _Would it really be so bad if Ace knew?_

He shunted away that rogue contemplation and leapt up into the sky off of his rocky cliff, flapping his wings powerfully to gain momentum. His blue flames flickered and filtered up through the trees, sputtering out into the air as they left his body.

Once he was above the tops of the trees Marco set his gaze on the Moby Dick rolling in the waves. At this range the monstrous ship was only a speck floating on the sea, a seagull bobbing on the surf. Marco knew that if it hadn’t been for the fact that he glowed a vivid cerulean Ace wouldn’t be able to spot him at such a distance. Not with the naked eye anyway.

As he approached the ship he knew Ace had been watching him for a long while already. He flew low over the crow’s nest, teasingly, liking the way that his light reflected off of Ace’s pearly white teeth as he grinned up at him.

Joyfully, Ace watched as his bird dove lower than ever before and raced along the edge of the mast below the crow’s nest. He leaned over the edge of the railing, seeing the bird’s back clearly for the first time, noting how he could see feathers beneath that mass of blue fire that held him captivated.

Ace heaved a shuddering breath in awe and Marco tilted his wings, shooting up past Ace’s hunched body and allowing some of his flames to reach out and touch the boy. Ace reared back in surprise, thinking that even though he were made of fire, blue flames theoretically burned hotter than red ones. Despite the wind in his ears from flight he could hear Ace’s gasp as the fire, cool and airy to the touch, ghosted over his skin, completely debunking his previous assumptions.

With an internal laugh only he could hear, Marco pumped his wings to lift himself higher into the sky. All of a sudden Marco felt a bit guilty that maybe he was going too far with their little game. That he was no longer playing innocent.

He could see Ace setting his hands alight again, perhaps this time intentionally trying to coax the bird down with his own bright illumination. The ache that began in Marco’s gut spread throughout his entire body until culminating in his head. He felt he wasn’t thinking right, no, he _knew_ he wasn’t thinking right…

Because he landed. On the railing of the crow’s nest. Right in front of _him_.

Ace could hardly believe his eyes at the majestic sight before him. The creature had alighted on the rail so soundlessly and easily, yet it was nearly twice his size and by all laws of physics the bird should be breaking the wood with its weight. The bird, whose beak shone a dull yellow much like the sun as it set in the evening, had circular markings around its eyes, dark blue in colour. At this range Ace could also see the intricate designs that dotted the feathers underneath the bluish-green fire that encased the creature. He could see the rise and fall of the bird’s chest and the reflected blue light in the bird’s otherwise obsidian eyes.

It was more beautiful than anything Ace had ever seen before. And it was here, in front of him, watching him closely. Calm and still, unafraid of him.

He swallowed nervously as the bird’s elongated neck, previously tucked against its chest, stretched out towards him. The tip of the bird’s long, thin beak brushed against the flames that still burned faintly in Ace’s hands as if to taste him. Ace felt the hesitation, the caution, and kept his hands as still as he could. He barely breathed until the bird withdrew its head, looking at him as if expecting something in return.

Marco had wondered if he’d made the wrong choice, coming down to meet Ace. But upon feeling the heat from Ace’s fire he’d assured himself that it was worth it. It would be worth the consequences when they eventually caught up to him for in that moment, placing a light innocent kiss in the palm of Ace’s hand, he’d never felt so happy.

They gazed at one another for a few minutes, drinking in appearances. In the light from both of their fires Marco could see that Ace was wearing a shirt for once to compliment his shorts. He couldn’t help the stab of disappointment that coursed through him. To be able to stare at Ace so shamelessly and not have to rip his eyes away as soon as the other caught on was a rare opportunity. In his opinion, the black t-shirt certainly didn’t suit him.

Ace wasn’t making any moves towards him, too afraid that he’d scare off the bird even though it was apparent the creature wasn’t going anywhere. He watched the bird shift its weight from one taloned foot to the other, almost in a nervous fashion before his attention was once more diverted to the bird’s plumed head.

Marco reached out again with his beak, letting his face rub against Ace’s outstretched hands. He brushed past them tentatively, letting his neck fall into Ace’s hesitant grasp while he butted Ace’s chest lightly with his forehead.

Ace let him do as he pleased and didn’t flinch even when Marco glided his beak under Ace’s shirt, lifting the fabric innocently. The skin he found there was soft and supple and he ran what would have been his cheek across Ace’s fiery skin, feeling the other shudder in surprise.

The connection between them was alive, a pulsing thing that Marco felt in every part of his body. This was better than any inferno he’d ever subjected himself to, better than even the last day of his cycle, the day where he felt most energetic and replenished.

Vaguely he began to register that Ace was running his fingers up and down his neck, feeling the smooth feathers under his blazing blue flames. Marco’s eye slid shut and he fully surrendered himself to Ace’s tender touches, diffident at first but growing bolder with each passing second.

Then Ace did something Marco hadn’t expected; he wrapped his arms around Marco’s neck and buried his face completely in the plume of feathers that billowed on the top of his head. The motion, so swift and sudden, caught Marco off guard and he slacked his muscles, his head pitching unintentionally south.

He brushed up against a part of Ace that he’d never thought he’d ever go remotely near.

Marco was snapped out of his trance and he wheeled around suddenly, yanking himself free from Ace’s hold. Ace let him go easily, surprised that the bird could be anything but tranquil.

With an unconstrained shuddering sigh Marco climbed over the railing, cast a fleeting look back at Ace’s disappointed face, and then jumped from his roost. He felt his tail ghost over Ace’s ankles, a strong reminder of what he’d just done. Damage that could never be undone.

He was shaking when he made it back to the rocky clearing on the island, feeling the adrenaline wearing off only to be replaced by anxiety. He had overstepped the boundary between them tonight and the worst part of it all was that Ace _didn’t_ know anything was wrong. To him, Marco the human was a friend he could trust. The phoenix was just another animal that seemed to be friendly. Marco was convinced Ace would be mortified when he found out his bird’s hidden motives.

Ace would be so disappointed in him. There would be nothing left between them but a bitter past because of Marco’s selfish actions.

\--oOo--

 “You won’t believe this Marco,” Ace said the next day as they sat on the figurehead of the Moby Dick. Marco had brought a newspaper up there to distract himself from what had happened last night. He hadn’t been expecting the very person who he was trying to forget existed to show up beside him visibly squirming in excitement. “I _touched_ the bird.”

Marco choked as his perverted mind smothered him with some very inappropriate thoughts. He managed to get himself under control and then sputtered, “O-oh yeah?”

“Yep,” Ace said with great conviction. He crumpled to the ground, knocking shoulders with Marco as he took a seat uncomfortably close to the older man. He leaned in to whisper into Marco’s ear as if he were about to tell a childish secret. “Actually, it touched me first. I was so surprised. I didn’t think it would do that. I mean, it must be wild, right? Yet it acted friendly.”

With Ace so close to him, pressed up against his side whispering their shared secret into his ears Marco had to fight to control his breathing. He could feel his heart beat speeding up as Ace’s heat seeped in through his jacket to surge its way into his skin.

In that moment, his zoan type instincts were yelling at him to do very immoral things to the boy blissfully unaware beside him.

“I think it’s lonely. I’ve never even heard of another bird like that before, one that looks like its made of fire, so I think maybe it’s the only one in the entire world. I’d be lonely too if I were it.”

“You might be reading too much into this bird,” Marco said slowly, careful not to abash Ace too early on in their conversation. He had seen Ace’s temper flare up before and knew that he could quickly turn this into a sparing match with the wrong words.

He had stepped way past the margin set between crew mates last night, this he realized subconsciously even as he was doing it. He had to find a way to remedy this, to somehow reverse what he’d done so that when Ace finally found out the mystery behind his blue bird, Marco could laugh it off and state that it had been a joke, albeit a cruel one.

“No, I’m _positive_ the bird was lonely. You should have seen it Marco, it rubbed up against me–”

Marco gagged at the dicey word choice and hurried to cut in, “It was probably just investigating you. If you’re not careful it might decide to take a bite out of you. Not that it would do much with your condition, mind you.” He worked to keep his voice firm, trying his hardest not to waver under all the pressure.

“No,” Ace insisted defiantly, “It’s definitely lonely!”

“It was probably sampling you to see how tasty you were,” Marco argued back. He winced as soon as the words left his mouth. Sure, Ace looked tasty to him, but not in the way that suggested he would like to eat him.

 _Lick him, maybe_ … _Wait, don’t think that_! Marco internally screeched. Yes, his zoan type instincts were becoming disconcertingly active these days.

Ace shook his head, the tips of his long black hair brushing against Marco’s cheek as a result of their close proximity. “How would you know what was going on in that bird’s head?! You weren’t even there!”

Pushing his fingers up against his temple Marco looked down into his lap where the newspaper resided. The text blurred and he couldn’t focus on anything, not with Ace’s bare chest within easy reach. Not with Ace’s warmth seeping into him. Not with Ace’s heated voice so close to his ears.

“Ace. There’s something I need to tell you,” Marco admitted before he could think too much about the aftermath to come. He would just spit out the truth and be done with it. He looked up, met Ace’s inquisitive eyes and slightly flushed face, and sighed his resignation.

“Sometimes things aren’t always as they appear,” Marco started. Ace became perplexed, the gears in his head trying to make sense of Marco’s hint at a warning.

With a snort, Ace thought he’d figured it out. “Marco, you can trust me. I’m not going to try and catch that bird and make it join the crew or anything. I know it’s lonely, so I’m just going to be its company. Its friend. That’s all. You don’t have to worry.”

Marco stood up; crumpling his newspaper under one arm and reaching his opposite hand out to ruffle Ace’s shaggy hair. Then he took off without another word, heading for his quarters to stuff his face into his pillow in utter defeat.

He couldn’t bring himself to crush Ace’s newfound state of happiness. Not when he’d been so depressed up until a few weeks ago. But the main reason he couldn’t just be honest with him was because he knew that as soon as the truth came out, Ace wouldn’t trust him again. Not after this. And, somehow, Marco knew he couldn’t live with himself if he lost Ace altogether.


	4. Day Four

Marco had checked the front of logbook for the updated page of who was on watch that night before he headed out. Ace’s name was hastily scribbled in the same time slot as it had been the previous few days. Sometimes the kid’s persistence was on a whole other level compared to any of his other nakama. He had first been exposed to this extreme when Ace had tried, unsuccessfully, to take Whitebeard’s head. He had never seen determination like that before. And now, with the watch, he was convinced that this was the first instance ever recorded on the Moby Dick where someone had taken a particular time slot _four_ days in a row.

Nothing could exhaust that kid. Even though he admired that quality in Ace, it also scared him a little.

Presently, he was gathering bits of foliage for his second last fire. Usually by this time he would be practically skipping through the forest, happy as could be. Tonight, however, he couldn’t be more depressed. He could barely bring himself to make a half-respectable pile of logs and branches. It looked like a lopsided heap left over from a hurricane rather than a cozy nest.

He threw off his clothes angrily, tossing them every which way. Dimly he thought he heard some fabric rip but he didn’t pause to check as he found he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He transformed fully, the release powerful and freeing so late in his cycle. However, even with this heightened sense of rebirth, a gloom spread over him. He found himself brooding as he lumbered towards his heap, which he’d already lit with a match.

As he neared his fire it grabbed at him eagerly, whispering comforting nothings into his ears. It soon became apparent that such a flame couldn’t sate him. As much as he hated to admit it, he’d tasted what could have been, an alternative fire that burned hotter and evoked more emotion from him than anything he’d ever had before. He thirsted for more, _hungered_ for it.

He rolled in his sticks, the points of some of the branches piercing him. Even if he were aware of the pain, it meant nothing to him. It couldn’t compare to the ache that had settled in his gut as he thought of Ace, sitting up on the crow’s nest scanning the ocean.

Looking for him. Expecting him.

Marco rolled over onto his back, thrashing and spraying embers across the rocky surface. He writhed in place, his tail twisting furiously as he tried to beat himself into a stupor. He’d never hated how he felt heightened emotions during his cycle more than he did now, for he knew he must look not only ridiculous but immature as he violently tossed about.

He tried to force his limbs to lie still. He only achieved in stopping them from brutally convulsing. They still twitched, anticipating his next movements.

He grew angry at his stupidity. If he had only told Ace outright that it was he who flew the coup at night he wouldn’t have dared to place himself into this mess. He wouldn’t have developed a tremendous penchant to Ace’s natural fire. He wouldn’t have betrayed his nakama’s trust.

And he certainly wouldn’t have to be battling an overwhelming feeling to go and jump into Ace’s arms, feathers first.

He lost the battle. His zoan type animalistic instincts told him to get into the air, to fly back to his mate. He couldn’t reason with his instincts, even when he mentally screamed at them that he couldn’t do it, that hell, he _didn’t_ have a _mate_. The word was absurd and foreign, yet so fitting. But that word should not have ever even graced his consciousness, at least not in relation with his _nakama_.

Regardless of how his thoughts played out Marco scrambled to put clothes on his naked body before rising into the night air.

He shot across the ocean, gaining momentum as he beat his wings tirelessly. The part of his psyche that told him he needed to turn around and wait for the sun to rise on the horizon was shunted to the back of his mind, screaming all the while that he was making a very appalling mistake. One that would, without a doubt, be the end of him.

He’d be roasted blue turkey when Ace found out. Somehow, the part of his consciousness that goaded him on convinced him that at least he’d be a _happy_ roasted blue turkey.

He arrived back at the Moby Dick and – true to the schedule for the night watch that was stuffed into the front of the logbook – Ace was there. Waiting for him.

Ace literally lit up when Marco landed on the railing. Small flames licked his entire body and he beamed a monstrous grin that made the corners of Marco’s beak perk up. Without allowing himself to hesitate now that he was here, Marco dropped down to the inner part of the crow’s nest. He even inclined his head so they were eye level.

Marco quivered with anticipation as he saw Ace make the first move, raising his hands gradually. Bright red flames danced over his fingers and down his arms, joining together and breaking apart. There was more energy in those little slivers of fire than in the raging inferno Marco liked to create for his ritual. It made him giddy with excitement.

“I thought you weren’t going to come,” Ace whispered to the bird. He walked up slowly, hesitantly, and wrapped his muscular arms around Marco’s neck. Marco stiffened; this was the first time Ace had ever spoken during one of their meetings like this. He found himself growing warm. Ace’s voice was as soft and caressing as the fingers that brushed over his feathers.

He leaned into the warmth, adhering himself to any part of Ace that was within reach. His tail had snaked its way around Ace’s feet, ankles and on up his legs, holding him in place. Wings were unfurled and wrapped around Ace’s back, stealing the flames that gathered there out of sight. Marco felt as though he were embracing the sun itself.

If Ace was apprehensive of the bird clinging to him, he didn’t show it. In reality, he had never felt so secure. There was something about this bird that made him feel safe. He couldn’t place a finger on it, but something was oddly familiar, comforting.

The bird shifted to nuzzle its face against Ace’s cheek but the force, coupled with the fact that his legs were firmly anchored to the bird, made Ace fall backwards onto the wooden surface beneath him. He felt his butt slide over the surprisingly slick tail feathers of the creature and he found himself completely out of the bird’s grasp, staring up at it.

He laughed at the bird’s face, seeing that its eyes had widened and its beak had slackened. “Enthusiastic?” Ace inquired, wondering if the bird could understand a thing he uttered.

Marco caught himself before he made any too-human remarks or actions. Instead he lowered his body down to the deck and snuggled close to Ace’s side. His responsive actions were reciprocated as Ace grabbed a hold of Marco’s wing, covering his stomach and entire lower body by pulling it away from the bird’s body. Marco let the limb go limp as Ace experimentally stretched it, seemingly fascinated by the movement his feathers made as they opened up and retracted seamlessly.

Meanwhile, Marco twisted his head around Ace’s, feeling the boy’s dark hair against his neck. He rested his beak on Ace’s bare collarbone then closed his eyes to try and capture the very essence of this moment in his mind forever.

He had a feeling this would be his only chance.

He was interrupted before he could properly settle himself in when Ace began to shift out from under his wing. Marco raised his head curiously, watching as the boy ran his hands up his chest and onto the crest of his back.

Marco could feel a slight bit of pressure that steadily increased as Ace pushed himself closer to Marco, scrambling up the side of the bird. The touches were flighty and experimental.

It felt almost as if Ace were testing for something.

Then Ace moved again, shimmying forwards until his chest half covered Marco’s back. It clicked in that instant.

Ace had it in his mind to ride him. And not in the way Marco’s erotic fantasies played out.

Marco let out a noise that could have been considered a squawk and flipped over, pinning Ace to solid ground. Taken off guard despite having precautions, Ace merely lay still and wondered if the bird was going to try and kill him for his attempt at taming it.

Not that he’d been expecting to tame it. Still, it would have been exhilarating to fly on the back of a bird.

“Sorry birdy, I shouldn’t have done that,” Ace apologized softly. The bird stared down at him with its dark eyes, letting out a puff of breath that Ace supposed sounded distinctly like a sigh.

Marco had moved to place a wing over Ace’s small body, agitating his feathers. Ace jolted, bursting out into giggles at the tickling sensation. Tonight he wasn’t wearing a shirt and the smoothness of the bird’s blue fire was felt on every inch of his exposed skin.

 With a laugh, Ace grabbed a hold of the bird’s neck again to use as leverage, pulling himself into a sitting position. He burrowed his face into the bird’s plumage, glad that the creature was seemingly forgiving him for his daft actions.

Marco could sense his feathers fluffing outwards, becoming energized. Ace’s inner fire was attracting them and he found he could barely keep himself from rubbing his body up and down the length of Ace’s in an attempt to seek even more heat from him.

He held onto a shred of sanity to berate himself for falling into Ace’s arms again. But Ace was making it hard to put any distance between them, not only clinging to him but summoning fire to run along his bare chest and shoulders.

That fire spoke out to him loudly, _‘Come closer. Please, touch me. Hold me.’_

With a strangled moan as he fought himself, Marco managed to back up, feeling the backs of his taloned legs scrap against the edge of the crow’s nest. Ace slid farther up his neck, his hands landing at the join between neck and face. Eventually his hands found their way to Marco’s cheeks.

Ace brought the bird’s head down and gently kissed its beak, letting his lips linger a bit longer than they should have had it been a smooch one might give their beloved pet. He felt a wave of unabashed longing come over him as his blue flames ardently licked at the boy’s eyelids and cheeks.

Startled, Marco yanked his head back, tearing himself from Ace’s grip. He’d almost lost it. The control he had on what form he was in, phoenix or human. He’d almost let skin replace feathers and lips replace beak.

He threw himself over the railing sideways and plummeted in his panic, hearing Ace’s surprised shouts. As he stretched his wings to regain a sense of control his right struck a beam and he hissed, feeling the wing snap and then mend itself. Regenerating.

He wished he could rejuvenate his rapidly shattering heart as well but his powers didn’t extend that far.

The phoenix barely made it to the island, collapsing in a bundle of feathers on the ground rather than landing elegantly. At this distance and hidden in the clearing he couldn’t see Ace sitting above the topgallant. But he could _feel_ the hurt and pain coursing through Ace, his fire wavering to the point of nearly going out. That fire was still beseeching him, calling him to come back and embrace it. To apologize for taking off so suddenly.

Marco crawled into the ashes of his nest, willing himself to forget the feeling of Ace’s soft lips on his face. He found he could do nothing to keep his mind from straying.

\--oOo--

For some reason, Ace was avoiding him. Marco couldn’t decide if it was intentional or not, though in a way he was glad he didn’t have to interact with Ace and pretend that nothing special had been happening during the past few days.

Ace seemed to be lost in his thoughts, climbing to sit on one of the ship’s many spars, hair whisked back from his face by the breeze that rippled through. He was staring forlornly off into the distance and Marco knew Ace was waiting for the bird to appear in the middle of the day.

He was lonely.

Marco felt a stab in his chest every time he looked up through the patchwork of sails to see him sitting there. All around Marco the crew was milling about, well into one of their many banquets, drinking and having a merry time of it, yet Ace wouldn’t come down to join them. No matter who went up there to try and coax Ace down, he wouldn’t succumb.

Marco felt that had he tried he would’ve succeeded. But that would involve facing his fears, something Marco wasn’t inclined to do. Instead, he went down to his quarters and slept face down in his pillow. He had only been catching sparing naps these past few days and he knew he needed to sleep, even if his body was on a hyperactive overdrive from his cycle. He didn’t want to suddenly crash during the day if his brain couldn’t keep up with his body. That was something Ace did, not him.

Thoughts of Ace filled his head as he fell asleep. He woke fitfully throughout the day, sweating and unable to remember what his dreams had been about. Or, perhaps, he didn’t want to remember and had repressed the thoughts before they could harm his conscious mind.

Earnestly, he knew _exactly_ the nature of his dreams.

He jumped out of bed, too wired to lie down and try to get some more rest. He was just kidding himself, really. He was avoiding the inevitable. He was avoiding facing Ace and hiding here in his quarters like some common coward. A _chicken_. His spinelessness made him sick.

So sick in fact that he strode up to the main deck before he fully knew what he was doing, ignoring the jostling of his crew as they begged him to join in on their fun. He scolded them for being drunken fools and, as an afterthought, grabbed an abandoned plate with a hearty scrap of meat on it.

It would be his peace offering.

With plate in hand he set his sights on the rigging. He climbed deftly; the many years of practice to hone his seamanship evident in the way he scaled the ship without so much as having to think about where to put hands or legs. The sails had been furled for days now and it was easy to pick out Ace’s location without copious amounts of canvass getting in his way.

As he ascended to sit atop his destination Ace gave him a frugal glance, turning immediately back to gazing out over the sea. Marco could see the tenseness in Ace’s shoulders and fleetingly wondered what it would be like to massage the stress out of the boy.

He cleared his throat and with it his perverse mind. Even in the worst possible scenario he couldn’t stop those rampant, improper thoughts. He blamed it on his animal instincts.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Marco finally said. Ace looked at him from out of the corner of his eye. “I’m surprised you’re not down there eating. I brought something up for you.”

Ace hadn’t seen the plate beforehand and snatched it eagerly when it was offered. “Thanks Marco, you’re such a good friend,” he said quietly, digging into the food.

Ace’s words almost drove Marco to leap from the spar.

But he was already preoccupied, stealing glances at Ace while he ate and trying his hardest to keep his eyes from giving his mind any more perverted ideas. It didn’t help that Ace always licked his fingers thoroughly after a meal that lacked utensils. The pink tongue darting out coupled with a soft sucking noise that Ace made as he put his fingers into his mouth… _that_ was what was going to drive him off the spar.

His inner phoenix instincts, the ones that were heightened during his fire cycle, screeched in indignation as Marco did _nothing_ to take advantage of the situation. He continued to suppress his sexual desires, hoping that Ace wouldn’t notice how hot and sticky he’d become.

“What have you been doing up here?” Marco asked through clenched teeth. He needed Ace to say something that would require his full attention and distract him from his demanding thoughts. He needed Ace to start blabbering as he often did when the two of them were alone.

“Oh, just thinking,” Ace answered shortly.

Marco pressed on, not at all satisfied with that answer. He needed more of a distraction than that. “About?”

“Questions that I don’t have answers for.”

Marco blinked, not anticipating such a mysterious reply to come out of Ace’s mouth, of all people. “Tell me these questions and perhaps I can help.”

Ace was hesitant at first, but Marco further reassured him, promising that he’d tell no one anything that they said sitting up on the spar in the wind.

“Have you ever done something that you know is horribly immoral and disgusting?” asked Ace at length. His voice spat the words out and Marco believed he saw a tendril of flame shoot out of the boy’s mouth.

The question wasn’t one that Marco had been anticipating. That isn’t to say, however, that he didn’t immediately have his answer. “Yes.”

There was a stretch of silence before Ace asked, “Could something really, _really_ wrong actually be right?”

The question was quiet and half lost in a sudden burst of wind but Marco heard it clearly.

He gulped, his phoenix form threatening to burst out of him. “I don’t know the answer to that one,” he said, taking Ace’s plate from him and climbing back down to the deck, intending to disappear for the rest of the day.


	5. Day Five

At dinner the crew always gathered in the galley near the kitchen’s entrance. They would wait like starving wolves for the chefs to throw them a bone or two, often fighting amongst themselves as to who got a bigger portion of food. Dinner was a strenuous ordeal on Whitebeard’s flagship, an ordeal that everyone partook in.

Marco watched Ace as he climbed down from the tallest mast on the ship and went below deck. He himself went past the hatch that led down into the underbelly of the vessel and instead headed to the ship’s stern. He got up on the gunwale at the very back of the ship, cast one last fleeting glance over his shoulder for onlookers, and then jumped leisurely off the ledge towards the ocean below.

The waves were coming up to meet him fast but Marco was well into his transformation before that would happen. He straightened out his body as he plummeted, expanding his wings and pulling up before impact, his tail feathers skimming the surface of the water.

It had been a while since he’d flown in broad daylight over the ocean. He liked the way the sun reflected off the surface and bounced back at him, coating him in a layer of heat.

But it wasn’t enough to just simply be bathed in sunlight. Marco needed something more.

As he reached the island and landed in the clearing he recognized that he would need a distraction in order to keep himself from doing something reckless and regrettable. He walked the island’s borders, memorizing every tree root and pebble in a vain attempt to forget about the past few days. The sun was still high in the sky, filtering down through the treetops. It was during his second time around the island when Marco felt it.

An unmistakable presence.

He hid in the trees, keeping his distance. His haki told him exactly where the boy was at all times and he used the knowledge to his advantage. He didn’t trust himself to be in the same vicinity as Ace.

He was afraid. Afraid he’d jump on the boy if he let out a single stray spark.

His attraction to fire was at an all time high. He wouldn’t be able to control himself if there was a blaze of even minuscule proportions. Ace was safe as long as he kept his distance.

The sun set and with it the presence faded away. Marco supposed Ace had returned to the Moby Dick. He knew the boy was searching for the bird. He’d seen him go off in the distance every night in the same direction and figured out that the bird most likely made its nest on the nearest island.

Tension enveloped Marco like a thick woolly blanket as he pondered how close Ace had been. As soon as it became time, darkness clinging to the world around him, Marco shed his clothes and leapt headlong into his burning nest, floundering in the ashes and seizing the flames around him. The fire whispered comfort and clung to his form, but it soon became apparent that Marco wanted to be elsewhere and the fire became merely a hollow blaze around him. It didn’t hold a shred of its normal appeal and enticement.

He barely registered how he put on his jacket and took to the sky. The flight back to the Moby Dick was a blur of water and air, meaningless things. The only thing he knew in all its entirety was the flame he was following in the distance, a beacon in the night.

He landed on that fire, rubbed his face all over the body it was attached to and felt himself swell with pleasure. The tension that had him consumed in misery all day melted off of him and he relaxed, at last wilting in Ace’s arms.

Through a haze of contentedness, he heard Ace’s deep voice, speaking to him gently.

“I’m sorry I scared you away last night,” he was saying. “I crossed the line.”

Marco continued to place himself as close to Ace as possible, all the while thinking, _I crossed that line long ago. It should be_ me _apologizing._

As he snuggled closer to Ace, he caught bits and pieces of what the other was muttering. The words rolled past him but the feelings stuck to his feathers; joy, excitement, _pleasure_. In his hyperactive state Marco had to strain his senses to hear the words spoken to him.

“It must be wonderful to be a bird. To go wherever you want,” Ace mumbled, body pressed up against Marco’s chest. “I like where I am right now but sometimes I wonder what it would be like to fly above everything. They say birds are the freest of creatures.”

Marco shuddered, knowing that Ace deserved to have his desires met after all he’d put the boy through. When the boy found out, as he doubtlessly would eventually, Marco wanted Ace to have a few fond memories of their time together during this masquerade.

 _I’ll show you what it’s like this time,_ Marco thought with resolve, _to live freer than anyone._

He tore himself away from Ace’s hands, an immediate sense of disappointment dampening Ace’s fire. Marco dipped his head, flattened his body to the wooden planks and stretched out his wing, reaching around behind Ace. He curled the wing inwards, bringing with it Ace’s willing body.

Ace understood immediately and eagerly climbed onto Marco’s broad back, wrapping his thick arms around Marco’s lithe neck. He settled his body along the length of the bird, the tips of his toes nearly reaching where Marco’s tail feathers began. Only when he was sure he could handle Ace’s mass on his back without the other slipping off, Marco rose, beating his wings to test Ace’s bravery.

It didn’t need the test. Ace didn’t have any second thoughts to suddenly jump off. Content, Marco leapt into the air, feeling the instant fast pull of gravity on his much heavier form. But Marco was strong, stronger than any other bird, and soon he was soaring above the ocean waves, leaving the ship behind in his wake. Ace’s awe at being airborne fuelled his wings and he cast ephemeral looks over his shoulder at the youth’s enraptured face cast in a blue luminosity.

Marco could have stayed in the clouds with Ace forever, but much to his disappointment Ace was slipping to one side as he’d feared he might, throwing off his balance and dragging them into a dangerous flight pattern without realizing it. He spotted the island below him and found his clearing with his sharp eyes. He would have to land and adjust Ace on his back. It would be easier if he could explain to him that it was hard to fly straight with him leaning to one side and that he didn’t want to get lost by flying out of sight of the Moby Dick.

But he couldn’t merely _explain_ using words. He would have to settle for landing and hope that Ace would understand his prodding to situate himself on the centre of his body. It was all he could do, really.

He dug his talons into the rock as he touched down a few feet from his nest, the smell of smoke strong in his sensitive nose. But before he could turn his head and adjust Ace, the other had jumped off his back to land on the ground beside him, laughing boisterously. He was all lit up, red fire secreting from his body as he shimmied about Marco, too excited to stand still.

In between laughs Marco thought he heard words of thanks and praise come from Ace’s rosy lips. But he couldn’t be sure; his mind was foggy, akin to a drunkard’s. All he could see was Ace’s feelings dancing in from of him: bliss, ecstasy and elation.

But then, all too suddenly, there was an eerie silence.

Marco watched, frozen in place, as Ace went around his nest and picked up articles of cloth, namely his pants and sash. He toed Marco’s sandals next, the gold adornment of a belt that he wore and then looked up at the phoenix before him, questioning.

Underneath that questioning, Marco knew, was an epiphany.

Marco held still, stood his ground, as Ace strode briskly up to him. He tried to read Ace’s expression and the language of Ace’s fire, but found he was so flustered that he couldn’t make out a single emotion.

Any sense he might’ve been able to find in those few seconds was utterly broken as Ace reached up, grabbed Marco’s head in his hands and brought him down to place a firm kiss on the join where beak became feather.

The hold Marco had on his phoenix form vanished without so much as a whisper and he gained human features, Ace’s lips attached now to a distinctly human cheek. They were oddly moist given his Devil Fruit abilities and they moved against his skin, gently sucking as Ace pulled back to look Marco in the eyes.

The look on Ace’s face told Marco that nothing needed to be said. His hands found their way to Marco’s jacket, the sole piece of clothing that he wore and he unzipped it, exposing Marco’s pirate mark. Fingertips laced with flames traced the mark and Marco welled up with a strong sense of relief, gleefully jubilant at the acceptance that lingered in Ace’s touches.

He pulled Ace to him, half-naked bodies pressing against one another.

They kissed lightly at first, gentle pecks on the lips until Marco found that Ace’s tongue seared heat into him in the best possible way. He set out to work on massaging the insides of Ace’s mouth, tempting the other’s tongue to interact with him. Ace was more than complaisant; he insisted more from Marco, grabbing onto the phoenix’s strong shoulders and thrusting his lower body against its significant other. Through all of Ace’s wriggling Marco became numbly aware that his jacket was no longer sitting atop his shoulders. The only reason he hadn’t been sentient of his naked state in the chilly night air was because of Ace’s hot conflagrations, rippling across the rocks around them. He felt no embarrassment, only a slight irritation that Ace still wore clothes in front of him.

Rather than completely undo the mess that was Ace’s oversized belt, Marco simply loosened the buckle a few notches and let gravity go to work. Ace’s baggy shorts slid off of him like water, the other stepping out of them and kicking the trivial fabric aside.

Marco felt Ace’s arousal firsthand against his own. He let his hands stray down to cup Ace’s buttocks, kneading the firm muscles there in his palms before experimentally parting the two fleshy globes from one another. With an impossibly low groan, Ace could only grip Marco’s shoulders to keep himself from falling over as he acknowledged that Marco obviously had experienced hands that knew how to touch him in the best possible way.

Ace found himself being first picked up and then lowered onto the rocky ground, the firm and obstinate earth creating dents in his back. Marco’s tongue left his lips aching, trailing fervent kisses downward. He spent ample time caressing not just pert nipples but the masculine ridges along Ace’s muscular chest, tongue delving into every crease on Ace’s body.

With astonishing alertness to the situation, Ace realized he didn’t want foreplay, at least not tonight. He pushed against Marco’s forehead, pushing him down further until blue flames licked appreciatively at his excited member. Marco eagerly licked at the engorged head, delighted that such a hot entity could be leaking wet fluids so freely.

Ace moaned loudly as Marco began to work him over frantically, throwing the back of his hand over his mouth to try and keep the embarrassingly weak and all too feminine cries from coming out. He wasn’t allowed to keep his hand there for long, as Marco caught on to what he was doing and snatched the offending limb away, pinning it to Ace’s side. Marco gave him a look of absolute rapture that stated he wouldn’t think less of him for behaving like an animal in heat.

Especially when that was just what Marco himself felt like.

Marco continued to bring Ace painfully close to his release, stroking his balls fondly and bobbing along his veined length. Just as Ace began sputtering about his inevitable climax Marco pulled away only to wet two of his fingers to hurriedly insert them into Ace’s entrance. They slid inside easily, moving past the ring of muscles that had become relaxed with the help of Marco’s ministrations on his erection.  

Face contorting over the pain of Marco not allowing him to let go, Ace whimpered faintly. With his fiery abilities he hardly felt the penetration in his asshole nor did he get much feeling out of Marco’s fingers thrusting in and out rhythmically. He needed something bigger than fingers, even if they were deft and had found his sweet spot, eliciting from him delighted groans. Through heavily lidded eyes that saw nothing but blue and red fire mixing to make a bright violet hue Ace managed to ground out, “M-Marco. _Just do it._ I don’t need this.”

Marco’s eyes narrowed more than usual to showcase his worry and Ace chuckled a bit, the sound high-pitched as he was caught up in an inferno of his own making. “I’m fire, remember? I’m my own lubricant.”

Considering this for a brief instant, Marco grabbed hold of his own erection with fingers that were removed from Ace’s body. He trusted Ace’s judgement and positioned himself quickly, running his own dripping tip down the cleft of Ace’s buttocks until locating his opening.

He pressed in, just as hard and unyielding as the rocks that dug into his knees. Eventually Ace caved with a little groan and Marco fully sheathed himself inside his own personal burning firestorm, a cheeky grin making its way to his face. He looked down at Ace and found that his grin was matched, although there was more lust than playfulness in that smile.

Deciding that he would be unable to last too long embraced by the walls of Ace’s fire, Marco began to thrust so as not to waste precious time. At first Ace grunted as Marco’s balls slapped at him but soon such rough sounds filtered out to be replaced by delighted cries and moans torn from his throat as Marco picked up his pace. Ace rocked up against him with each rhythmic thrust, pressing his chest to Marco’s to try and get as close as he could to the one delivering his gratification. Sensing Ace’s primal need for closeness, the older man lurched forward, grabbing Ace’s shoulder with his teeth.

Feral as a wild beast, Marco bit down on Ace’s hot skin, coaxing the fire out from inside his pores to scorch his mouth. Ace cried out as any control on his Devil Fruit abilities became void. He was completely gone, flames lapping over Marco’s entire body and devouring much of their surroundings in an uncontrollable wildfire.

Marco pulled back for air, panting, “You like that?”

Wordlessly Ace nodded, not trusting himself to speak coherently.

Marco let his fingertips brush over Ace’s knees, which hung over his shoulders, before resettling himself. This time he took Ace’s lips hungrily and continued to supply Ace with reasons to make delicious noises, grinding his upper body against Ace’s chest as he resumed pounding into him.

It didn’t take long for the emotions to boil over, not with Marco’s swift and sure drive.

Ace came first, mouth opened wide in a silent scream, shooting a thick white rope between their stomachs. His body locked in place and Marco found himself unable to move until the last of Ace’s convulsions rocked through his core, then he finished himself off inside Ace with a mere three strokes. Marco slumped over on Ace’s broad chest; both men taking ample time to catch their breath.

Marco didn’t pull out, instead opting for moving Ace’s legs so they wrapped around his back. Judging by the contentment he found on Ace’s face it was fine by him that they would stay connected, sharing the afterglow of what had just transpired.

To Marco, this was the rebirth that his usual fire bathing could never hope to achieve. He knew he’d never go back to being alone to freshen up. And, judging by the way Ace grinned up at him with a quirkiness only he possessed, Marco could tell that Ace felt the same way.

Marco considered himself a very, _very_ lucky blue bird.

Amongst all of these pleasant thoughts came a sudden realization as he caught sight of their surroundings. The night was oddly bright yet the stars were out of sight. “Shit,” Marco abruptly grunted.

“What?” Ace asked sleepily, nuzzling his face against Marco’s strong chest. He’d taken a lot out of him.

“The entire island’s on fire.”

“So?” Ace questioned again, somewhat irritable at being disturbed when he was trying to savour this moment they shared together. Ace was not grasping the significance of Marco’s words.

Marco had to spell it out for him.

“Everyone’s going to come and investigate. And our clothes are all burnt up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohoho, Ace. I'll never understand how you can wear clothes with that Devil Fruit power of yours.


End file.
